| [00:00.81] |
Human Hands - Bowerbirds |
| [00:12.39] |
When I wake, I wake by the brook, |
| [00:16.73] |
|
| [00:18.20] |
To an untamed thunder, |
| [00:22.00] |
|
| [00:22.70] |
And the northern flicker flash about |
| [00:27.75] |
|
| [00:28.36] |
as the soup in the sky grows thicker. |
| [00:33.09] |
But I tip my cap and curtsy and I take no offense |
| [00:42.83] |
|
| [00:43.37] |
Because there is no hate in your darkest cloud. |
| [00:48.73] |
|
| [00:51.59] |
No ill intent. |
| [00:55.99] |
|
| [00:57.83] |
Yet there is hate all around. |
| [01:00.97] |
|
| [01:05.28] |
On its hind legs, rears this storm, |
| [01:09.54] |
|
| [01:10.62] |
and the pines bend from its wily sword. |
| [01:15.66] |
Yet there is no war, no war, |
| [01:19.94] |
|
| [01:20.96] |
No quarrel here at all. |
| [01:24.76] |
|
| [01:26.04] |
And the deer shake in their hooves and shield their fawn. |
| [01:36.31] |
And when the rain comes, the rain comes. |
| [01:41.50] |
|
| [01:44.85] |
No judgement falls. |
| [01:51.23] |
Yet there is hate all around. |
| [01:54.89] |
|
| [02:19.36] |
There's a rusty prick in the tall grass, |
| [02:24.57] |
|
| [02:25.56] |
Where the barbed wire waits for a blind horse |
| [02:33.02] |
in a gallop and its sealed and sudden fate. |
| [02:40.92] |
There is hate in the grip of our human hands. |
| [02:51.72] |
There is hate in the grip of our human hands. |
| [03:02.53] |
There is hate in the grip of our human hands. |
| [03:08.18] |
|
| [03:09.15] |
Yes, there is hate all around. |
| [03:13.53] |
|
